


Impossible Man

by TheScholarlyStrumpet (equipoise)



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), doctor who (season 8)
Genre: F/M, Smut, Whoffaldi, whouffaldi, whouffle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 18:59:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2868596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/equipoise/pseuds/TheScholarlyStrumpet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Last Christmas inspired smut. </p><p>Clara needs some help warming up and the Doctor finally sees the upside of hugging.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impossible Man

They burst through the door of the TARDIS breathless and giggling like children.

“Where to next, Clara? Anywhere you want. It’s all at our fingertips.” The Doctor moved immediately to the controls, hands twitching over the buttons and levers that would launch them into their next adventure.

Clara didn’t answer. She was too busy looking around her, eagerly taking in every nook and cranny of the console room. “God I have missed this place. You did a good job dreaming it up, you know. The little details… Oh, but nothing could ever replace the real thing.” She trailed a hand gently along one railing.

It was cold to the touch and she shivered, suddenly remembering that she hadn’t actually grabbed anything else to wear. She wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her upper arms, absentmindedly. In an instant, something warm and heavy landed over her shoulders.  By the flash of red satin, she could tell it was The Doctor’s coat. His hands lingered for a moment but flitted away as she turned to face him.

“Thank you, Doctor.” She grasped the lapels and pulled it closer around her. It smelled slightly of ash, which made her wonder where he might have been before dropping by to save her life. He was still standing quite close and Clara tilted her head up to meet his eyes.

He shrugged and smiled down at her. “Wouldn’t do to have you catch your death so soon after coming back.”

She gave an appreciative chuckle. Neither of them spoke for a long moment, just drinking in the welcome sight of one another’s faces. Something warm flared inside Clara’s belly at the way his gaze kept dropping to her mouth before flicking back to her eyes. There was an unspoken question between them, but she wasn’t sure who should do the asking.

“You know, the fastest way to warm me up would be body heat.” Clara murmured, taking a step closer.

The Doctor’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed a couple of times in rapid succession. “You’re just trying to wrangle another hug out of me.” He accused, teasingly.

“So what if I am?” She challenged.

He shrugged again.

Hesitantly, she raised a hand to the zipper of his hoodie. The playful air around them seemed to dissipate, replaced by something both headier and darker and much more worth exploring.

His mouth fell open but he said nothing. He closed it quickly and licked his lips.

Clara’s heart began to pound against her chest. It was so loud, surely he could hear it? All of England could probably hear it. The TARDIS certainly could, somehow she just knew that. She hoped the ship liked her enough by now not to interrupt.

She tugged the zipper down and parted the sides of the hoodie. Why that simple act felt so intimate, she hadn’t a clue. The man had a jumper on underneath, for God’s sake!

Still, her hands shook slightly as she slipped them beneath that extra layer. They rested lightly at The Doctor’s slim hips. The blood was thrumming in her veins, hard and fast, and she knew this really wasn’t about warmth anymore because her cheeks were already aflame.

Uncertainly, she looked back up at The Doctor. “Is this… alright?”

His jaw worked for a moment before he nodded. She stepped closer, closing the space between them and wrapping her arms around him. Her palms splayed against his back and she could feel every beat of his hearts as she pressed her cheek to his chest. His arms moved stiffly around her, not pulling her any closer but not pushing her away, either.

She ran one finger gently along a few ridges of his spine and felt him shiver against her.

“Body heat is actually more effective when you don’t have so many layers between you.” Her voice was barely a whisper, now. 

He inhaled sharply and she felt his abdomen tense. “Clara…” His voice was low and gravelly, rumbling in his chest. “I don’t think…”

“I know. “ She sighed, disappointed. “Not my boyfriend.”

“Wasn’t going to say that, actually.” He pulled away just enough to snake a hand between them and gently grip her chin. He tilted her head up, meeting her gaze steadily. “I just think we’ve been through a lot – especially you.” The hand on her face lightly trailed one cheek before falling to his side. “I don’t want you making any… rash decisions.” His eyes flicked away and then back, looking so uncertain it made her heart hurt.

Clara exhaled loudly, rolling her eyes. “Oi, Doctor Idiot, you’ve been in my subconscious mind… how can you not know how I feel about you, by now?” She withdrew her arms from his sides and wrapped them around his neck, forcing him to bend toward her. The moment he was close enough, Clara lifted up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips firmly to his.

At first he didn’t react and every alarm bell in her head began going off. Had she utterly misread everything, so far? Maybe this Doctor really did just want her friendship… maybe he’d lost interest since regenerating… Maybe….

And then he was kissing her back with such force that she nearly fell backward. He crushed her quickly to him, steadying her on her feet just as her mind began to whirl. His tongue traced the seam of her lips and she parted them for him instantly. At some point, his jacket must have fallen off of her shoulders, but that suited her fine. She was already burning red hot.

The Doctor’s hands played on her spine, mimicking what she had done to him earlier and she moaned into his mouth. Encouraged by the sound, he began to map out her body in broader strokes, molding his grip to her waist, daring a little lower to shape her arse. Her hands travelled from his face into his curly hair, twirling it in her fingers and scratching her nails against his scalp. She discovered a few sensitive places that made him keen and clutch her nightgown in his fists.

Finally, she pulled away, needing to take a long, deep breath. She studied the Doctor’s face. His eyes were wild and dark, hair askew, lips parted and glistening.

He was perfect.  

“I like you like this, all unwound and looking thoroughly debauched.” She purred.

He smirked, the color on his cheeks heightening further. “You should have seen me in Rome.”

“Oh, there will be time for that. Right now, I’d like to see you in a bed.” She bit her lip at her own brazenness.

The Doctor licked his lips slowly. “I think that can be arranged.” He took her hand and led her down an unfamiliar hallway, then opened a door. Inside was a dimly lit bedroom with an enormous canopied mattress. He gestured for her to enter “After you.”

“Is this your bedroom? Or does the TARDIS have some sort of Room of Requirement?” She joked.

“It’s mine. I don’t spend much time here, really.” As soon as she had entered the room, he wrapped his arms around her from behind. He kissed the shell of her ear and traced it with his tongue. She pressed back against him with a whimper. The proof of his desire was very evident against her lower back.

“I think I’d like to change that.” She grabbed one of his hands, entwining their fingers and pulling him toward the bed.

He followed. “Yes, Boss.”

She grinned, scrunching up her nose. “You’re still wearing too many layers, you know.” She turned to face him, the backs of her legs nearly hitting the edge of the mattress. “Hoodie and jumper off, please.”

His voice dropped to that low tone that made her stomach quiver. “Yes, Boss.”

He removed the offending items and threw them into a dark corner. Clara, in turn, removed her cotton nightgown. It was getting rather stifling in that thing, anyway.

In low light, his eyes glinted hungrily, but he made no move toward her.

She sat back onto the bed, scooting herself up until she felt the pillows at her back. “Trousers now. Please.” She knew that last little bit of courtesy was unnecessary but as a teacher she had always insisted on manners. It wouldn’t do to forget them, herself.

The Doctor removed his trousers, shoes, and socks. He wore no underpants and when he straightened up Clara’s breath caught. Time Lord anatomy, it turned out, was exactly as humanoid as she had hoped and his was currently standing very much to attention. He seemed to pay it no mind, his eyes never leaving her face. There was still a shadow of doubt lingering behind their piercing gaze.

She crooked a finger. “Come to me, Doctor.”

He crawled across the bed to her until he was straddling her hips. Her hands moved almost of their own volition, trailing down his stomach, over his hips, to knead his buttocks. Clara leaned forward and traced his hipbone with her tongue.

He made a strangled noise and grasped her shoulders, pulling her away. “Tell me… tell me what you want, Clara.”

 She took a breath. “I want  _you_.“

He gave her a slightly feral grin and pushed her back onto the nest of pillows. Before she could even protest, he had covered her body with his and his mouth had found her neck. Licking and nibbling his way from her ear to her collarbone, he soon had her writhing against the sheets.

He kissed his way down to her breasts and traced the underside of each with his tongue before turning his attention to their very taut peaks. She mewled her approval, her hips already moving of their own accord.

The Doctor shifted further down, settling his shoulders between her legs and plucking at the waistband of her knickers. They were not a sexy pair and she felt a fleeting moment of embarrassment before remembering he probably wouldn’t have noticed either way.

“You don’t have to do that, Doctor. I mean, I’m already… ready for you.” If she thought her cheeks could get no pinker, she was dead wrong.

He simply arched an eyebrow at her before sliding the sodden undergarments down her legs and throwing them aside. He closed his eyes, inhaling her scent. Clara's mouth fell open at the decadent look on his face, arousal driving out all rational thought. At the first touch of his tongue to her dripping folds, Clara's hips jerked forward. One large hand smoothed over her hip to hold her in place as he relentlessly drove her up that shimmering precipice, only to pull back just as she reached the edge. She was cursing incoherently by the time he finally pushed her over. 

“Fuck me, you’ve done this before, then, haven’t you?” She gasped, once she could find her voice.

“Language.” He hummed against her skin. “And yes… but not in this body.”

That notion sent a new ripple of desire running through her, an oddly possessive kind of pride. "Come back up here, Doctor." 

He returned to her side, smiling smugly, and she pulled him immediately into a bruising kiss. As he wrapped himself around her, she took the opportunity to flip them over, until she was on top. She relished the way he instantly relinquished command. 

She sat astride him, feeling his hard length pulsing beneath her. "What do you want, Doctor?" She echoed his words, needing to hear him say it aloud. 

"You. Of course." He answered plainly, but there was a yearning in those ancient eyes that moved her to her very soul. 

"Good answer." She raised herself up just enough to position him at her entrance and slid down until he was fully sheathed. They both groaned simultaneously. 

She rolled her hips against his, enjoying the way he filled her, how perfectly they seemed to fit together. She soon found a rhythm that had them both panting. As her second climax built, she rode him harder and he matched her thrust for thrust. His hands gripped her outer thighs, fingertips digging into her flesh. Some part of her hoped to find little dotted bruises there, later. 

He was bucking beneath her, saying her name in that hoarse brogue and she was so close.... so close and Oh! God! Yes! She broke into a million pieces, calling out, inarticulately. He followed, with her name still on his lips. 

She collapsed on top of him, sweaty and sated. Tentatively, he wrapped his arms around her.

"So, do you like hugging better, now?" Her question was muffled by his shoulder. She could feel rather than hear him chuckle. 

"If all that was to teach me to enjoy hugging... I may be a slow learner."

She crossed her arms over his chest, lifting her head to rest it on her hands. "Well, I'm a very throrough teacher, so I suppose I'll just have to repeat the lesson until it sticks."

He pursed his lips, looking thoughtful. "You may never get a proper hug again, if that's the incentive you're offering."  

"Mmm, you still don't have a say in that." She countered. 

"Impossible Girl." A hand reached down to squeeze her buttock, affectionately. 

She shifted up to kiss him. "Impossible Man." 

**Author's Note:**

> Not nearly as proofread as most of my work because I was so eager to post :-P


End file.
